


purim

by octopodian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Jewish Character, M/M, Purim, dubious historical accuracy when drunkenly retelling the story of queen esther, im 17 i dont drink. i did the best that i could, martin is gay. hes just so gay., martin was livign in the archives during march so this is canon accurate!, theyre all jewish. every single character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18250592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodian/pseuds/octopodian
Summary: “I dunno, it’s weird, but... it’s easier to forget about the very real things currently trying to kill me when I think about all the times in the past that people tried and failed to kill people like me? I guess?”Martin hasn't celebrated Purim since his mom got sick; Tim is very enthusiastic; Jon and Sasha are along for the ride. (A very late) Chag Purim Sameach, y'all!





	purim

**Author's Note:**

> thank you @staticbees for being my much more observant jewish reference and proof reader and best friend! also, i am gay

Martin hadn’t really realized how much living in the archives would affect him. Tim and Sasha had gone to grab his clothes and possessions (since he was pretty sure going back would trigger more than a few panic attacks), so at first, it hadn’t been too much different. He’d wake up, get dressed, make tea, go to work. It was just a shorter commute. 

But eventually, he started realizing the parts of himself he had to give up. Like how he couldn’t stop by the bakery on his way home, or how he basically relied on the institute’s cafeteria for all his meals, or how he was always the last person in the building. He hadn’t even thought about how he was going to shower, let alone celebrate holidays.

After about 10 days into his new living arrangement, Tim strolled in in an outrageously good mood. Sasha raised an eyebrow.

“Geez, Tim, what’s the occasion?”

He scoffs. “Have you checked a calendar lately?”

“Excuse me?”

“Is it... your... birthday?” Martin knows it isn’t, because Tim’s birthday is in summer, but he can’t think of what would possibly make him so happy in the middle of March, of all-

“It’s Purim!” Tim’s eyes are practically sparkling. It jogs something in Martins memory, but he’s not entirely sure what. “Well, it will be after the sun sets, anyway. It’s only the best holiday  _ ever.  _ And why, you may ask?”

“Why?” Sasha asks, trying to fight back a smile.

“Because I get to get wasted as a  _ religious duty. _ ” He sits back in his spinning desk chair, grinning from ear to ear. That clicks, and Martin finally remembers why it sounds so familiar.

“I... I used to celebrate that! As a kid,” Martin pipes up, finally looking away from composing an email to Mark Bilham following up his statement. “Before my mum got sick and everything.”

“Oh, wicked! It’s fun, isn’t it?”

Martin picks at his sweater. “I dunno. I haven’t celebrated in years,” he says softly. “I’ve missed it a bit, to be honest.”

Tim is silent for a moment before clapping his hands. “It’s settled then!”

“...What is?”

“You, me, Sash’. We’re celebrating together this year.”

Sasha shrugs. “I haven’t really been observant since my Bat Mitzvah, but sure, I’m free.”

“I-I-I mean, are you sure? I can’t exactly get a ride home from the pub. The institute gets locked up at night.”

“Then we’ll just celebrate here. I’ll go out, grab some drinks and some hamantaschen if I can find someplace selling it, and we’ll bunker down.”

“You-you don't have to do that, I mean, I’m not exactly the most fun guy to be around, and I know this place is really creepy, so-”

“Martin,” Tim says, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, “unless you don’t drink, which is fine, you’re going to get absolutely wasted with us and eat hat-shaped biscuits. Okay?”

Martin fights back a smile. “Okay.”

They stare at each other for a long time, but it doesn’t get awkward until Sasha fake-gags. Tim flips her off jovially and goes back to researching. His current project is something about clowns and a really fancy old piano, but the whole thing gave Martin the creeps so he was perfectly fine looking through the police reports that Sasha managed to find about the Hither Green Chapel. Beyond that, it really wasn’t too different of a day at work.

He certainly felt a lot happier, though. 

 

Tim left at 5 to go grab drinks, taking Sasha with him because she (quite smartly) refused to leave him unsupervised in a liquor store. Martin putters around, unsure of what to do with himself, tidying up papers and cleaning up old cups, when Jon slinks out of his office.

“Jon? Why are you still here?”

Jon furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… it’s already dark. Usually, you leave around noon.”

Jon looks like a ghost. “It’s- what?” He checks one of the clocks on the wall and winces.

“...Did you not notice?”

“I… No,” Jon admits. “I got caught up in a statement. I… didn’t realize how late it was. So much for getting home before dark.”

“You can always stay here,” Martin blurts out. “I-I mean, Tim’s bringing some drinks. Sasha too. We were going to… get drunk? I guess?”

“Martin, I’m still technically your boss. You really shouldn’t-”

“No, no, it’s… it’s Purim?” Martin panics for a moment, fearing he might have to explain a holiday he barely remembers. I mean, Jon already thinks he’s stupid, he’s just going to get all mad o-or sneery and then- 

Jon groans. “Is that today? Georgie is going to give me hell for not sending her anything.”

“Oh. Um. You’re-?”

“Yes, yes. Not exactly observant, but I… yes.”

“Oh. Cool.”

They stand, staring at the floor, for a very long moment. Martin is about to offer to make tea, because he honestly doesn’t know what else to say, when Tim bursts in, Sasha in tow.

“Ah, Jon! Are you staying? Cool, I was worried we wouldn’t be able to find a designated driver.”

“Sorry, what?” Jon asks, but Tim whirlwinds past him to the back room where Martin’s been sleeping for a while.

“I told you, I could just call a taxi! You’re just cheap!” Sasha calls after him.

“I don’t have a car!” Jon says, following Sasha’s lead.

Tim ignores them both. “I couldn’t really find any hamantaschen, so we’ve got some tea biscuits that we all can pretend are hat-shaped. And some wine, for the culture, as well as some beer, ‘cause it was on sale. I love you, Martin, but not enough to drop more than 40 pounds.”

“Good lord,” Jon mutters, and Martin feels inclined to agree, even though he’s smiling. No one brought any glasses, but they all have mugs for tea, so after some shrugging they decide to use what they have.

Martin pours himself some wine: he’s never really been one for alcohol, but it’s not unpleasant, and it’s been a while since he got to celebrate. He offers to pour Jon some, but he shakes his head.

“I don’t drink, sorry. I quit after college.”

“You don’t really seem the party animal type,” Sasha remarks, sipping from her teacup of cheap wine.

Jon's mouth quirks, a spark of mischief in his eye. “I did theatre.”

“Oh. Well, that explains a lot.”

Tim, who was wrestling with the 6-pack of beer, looks back up at the three of them. “Alright, I know more or less enough for it to probably count as hearing the story of Purim. That and getting drunk is most of it, so unless you guys wanna dress up or give each other gifts of food?” No one makes a move. Tim grabs a can, sprawling on the couch gracefully. “Listen up boys and girls, it's story time.” 

Martin shifts forward, genuinely excited. Jon looks extremely bored, and Sasha gives Tim a thumbs up. “So, once upon a time, there was a king. He got mad at his wife, and divorced her, and wanted a new wife. So he held competitions to find the hottest girlfriend, because men are the worst, and he found Esther, the hottest girl in miles, who was Jewish ‘cause obviously Jewish people are just inherently smoking.”

“This history lesson is riveting thus far,” Jon deadpans, taking a sip of his water.

“Shh, let him finish,” Martin scolds, bumping Jon’s shoulder with his shoulder without really thinking about it. He rests there, Jon blinking a few times before settling into the touch. 

“I’m just glad he puts more effort into his archival duties.”

Tim continues on, ignoring the peanut gallery. “Unfortunately, while this was happening, this bastard Haman–” He pauses for a loud chorus of boos, mostly from Sasha. “–the counselor to the king, wearer of stupid hats, makes a law that everyone has to bow to him when he walks by. Only, y’see, Jewish people don’t really bow to people, ‘cuz we’re not big on idol worship. So Haman–” More booing, Martin joining in this time. “–saw this dude Mordecai, who was Esther's uncle, by the way, forgot to mention him, and he was real pissed that Mordecai wouldn’t bow to him, so he decided ‘Hey, I’m gonna kill all the Jews!’”

Tim puts his elbows on his knees, leaning down conspiratorially. “Thankfully, Esther is also super smart. Mordecai tells her about this, and she gets the king to promise to protect her from anyone wanting to hurt her. Not unreasonable, because she’s very hot and the king is very drunk. Then, the next day, she reveals that Haman - boo! - wants to hurt her! Because, she’s Jewish, and the whole murdering-the-Jews plan. So, the king kills Haman - hooray! - and we celebrate by getting so wasted we can’t tell the difference between good and evil, and wearing fun costumes, and eating little cookies that look like his dumb fucking hat.” He downs the rest of his beer, and lies back on the couch.

“...while I’m fairly sure you got some details wrong, that wasn’t… as awful as I had assumed it would be.”

“Aw, Jon, you really know how to make a guy feel special!” Tim bats his eyelashes at Jon, who huffs. Martin resists the urge to stare at Jon. He’s above that. He’s… okay, look, the blush on Jon’s face is really cute, alright? And he’s a little tipsy.

Sasha stretches back on the couch. “Get a room, you two!” That gets a very indignant squawk from Jon and a loud chuckle from Tim.

They spend about an hour, mostly just drinking and eating and talking about work and some of the recent statements. Martin feels pleasantly buzzed, and is more than a little aware that he and Jon's thighs have been touching this entire time as he argues with Tim about Robert Smirk.

Sasha decides to leave first, calling a Lyft and talking about a date she has tomorrow. She takes most of the remaining alcohol with her, which is likely for the best. After a bit, Jon grumbles out the door too, something about professionalism that isn’t very convincing, leaving Tim and Martin alone. 

“Didya have a good time?” Tim says, only slurring his words slightly. He sits down next to Martin on his couch-turned-bed. There's still a few empty bottles lingering, but Martin'll clean those up in the morning.

“I… yeah. I did. I really did.” Martin smiles. “I dunno, it’s weird, but... it’s easier to forget about the very real things currently trying to kill me when I think about all the times in the past that people tried and failed to kill people like me? I guess?” Martin shrinks inside his sweater a bit. “Gives me hope,” he murmurs.

Tim smiles, and leans in to hug him. Martin quickly returns the hug. They embrace for a moment, Tim guiding him to a reclining pose and yawning. 

“G’night.” 

Martin opens his mouth to point out that Tim is very much cuddling him, but decides he doesn’t mind so much. He leans into the touch, relaxing into the strong warmth and burying his face into the crook of Tim’s neck. 

“Night, Tim.”

The future looks a lot brighter, for once. 


End file.
